


Initiation

by sunaddicted



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Dark Dorks in love, Fluff and Smut, Graphic Description, Graphic Description of Corpses, Light Angst, M/M, Mairon litterally is Melkor's Little Flame, Mental Anguish, Mental Instability, My love for Hannibal is showing in this fic, Self-Combustion, Why Did I Write This?, apparently eye-balls taste similar to brain, as usual the title is obscure and doesn't make much sense, first time writing cannibalism, hopefully I didn't made a mess of this, i couldn't focus on it, sorry - Freeform, the smut is very mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 06:33:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4656309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunaddicted/pseuds/sunaddicted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We need to make the corpse disappear” the Maia pointed out, ready to get rid of the evidence of their guilty actions “Any ideas?” Maybe his Master had the power to vanish it with the astounding force of his iron will: it wouldn’t surprise him.<br/>The Vala grinned, already savoring the expression of utter fascination and repugnance that would be carved on the Admirable’s face “We eat it” he declared simply [...]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Initiation

_Initiation_

They stood in the middle of the clearing, bathed in golden light and the scent of freshly fallen rain mixing in with the sickly sweet tang of overly-ripened berries and rotten leaves, and glared fiercely at each other; electric blue eyes, agitated and wild like a gathering storm, stared into pools of melting magma vibrant with conflicting rage and longing.

In between them, under their naked feet, the crystal clear waters of the river stained red on its sandy banks, blemishing forever their skin. The corpse of some non-descripted Maia lay reverted on the earth, half-submerged and already inflating with water and starting to look like it was ready to burst; a grim smile twisted Mairon’s horrified features as he vividly pictured the corpse exploding and splattering them with bits of flesh and disgusting entrails smelling of latrine.

Melkor stepped forward, big and white hands dripping with already-clotting blood tilted upwards in a mocking prayer.

Mairon stepped back, a vain attempt at fleeing away: he could feel the invisible chains tying their essences together tighten with the increasing distance, slowly squeeze his parched throat and cutting into his thin wrists; how could anyone not see that Eru had made them to be together? Aulë had often sat him down at the end of a long and hard day of work, trying to explain him he was wrong with his deep and compassionate voice. He had claimed it wasn’t love – not when he felt like being split in a thousand shards of glass and still craved to be with the one who would only shatter him further, until only shimmering dust was left: it was dark and twisted obsession, the unconscious display of self-destructive tendencies.

“Don’t be like that” the Vala crooned, a manic glint sparkling like lightening in his irises “You wish to join me, don’t you?” he inquired, bringing crimson fingers to his grinning lips and sucking them in his mouth, tongue liberally used to display how much he was enjoying his treat. It was a nightmarish sight, the physical manifestation of a monster – such a painfully beautiful one, though.

Hot and thick saliva pooled in the smith’s mouth and he gulped it down painfully as he glanced downwards, meeting the empty gaze of the slaughtered Maia that sent a nerve-wracking shiver down his spine. It was his moment to truly prove to the Vala his intentions, after so many years of wooing his cause and seducing the Mighty Arising in considering him as a worthy ally – an equal who shared his vision and longed for nothing more than make it real, serve it on a golden tray for his Master to gaze upon with glee and satisfaction “I do” The words came out firmly and as cold as ice, fruits of a hardened soul that had endured too much taunting by its similars – honestly, he should have rejoiced in the pretty and beautifully disturbing picture the Maia at his feet made.

But he could have been in his place – it both terrified and elated him: he was expendable but, somehow, the Vala had deemed him superior and chose him to be his right hand “I do” he repeated, stronger and more passionate than before, letting his faith warm his complexion with an infatuated flush.

He didn’t scuttle back when Melkor tried again to walk to him and the Vala smiled brightly, only a solitary speckle of blood on his pointy and sharp teeth “I know” he whispered. He was so near that his hot breath caressed Mairon’s face and made his blush go several shades darker, making the almost invisible smattering of freckles on the bridge of his nose stand out “I’ve admired the depths of your heart, Admirable, and I know it is mine” Such a precious gift, the only one he vaguely felt inclined to thank Eru for: Mairon wasn’t a mindless servant, a witless worshipper; his mind was sharp and cunning, filled with great knowledge and scaring rationality.

“It is” the Maia exhaled breathily, tip-toeing to reach that plush mouth and plunder it with his tongue. His whole being seized up in horror as he sampled the blood, avidly lapping up at it in a desperate search of Melkor’s taste; he moaned embarrassingly loud when his taste buds found the rich tang of cinnamon and candied-violets while he clung at his wide and masculine shoulders, ignoring his body mute internal screaming.

Mairon the Admirable was breaking under the strain of self-imposed torture, waiting to snap like a too strung up cord – and it felt liberating as his spirit rushed out its prison of flesh and bones to meet Melkor’s, engaging it in a maddening dance, metaphorically stomping on the corpse sacrificed to their magnificence.

Blood-coated fingers slid past his parted teeth, cold and slimy on his tongue, and Mairon obscenely shared the offering with his master, uncaring of the reddish-saliva getting smeared on their faces as their kiss got messier and biting. They crushed into each other’s bodies, digging ribs into muscles and bruising their shape on the other, leaving lavender-shaded marks – it wasn’t enough to satiate their hunger. It would never be.

Melkor put an end to the kiss but cupped Mairon’s face in his hands, transfixed by his wild beauty: fueled by their passion his hair had burned into a scorching fire, a halo of dancing flames framing his outwardly features; in the middle of lava-like irises, inky pupils were blown wide with arousal and repulsion; his mouth was plumped by their aggressive display of affection and surrounded by their messy entrée.

“We need to make the corpse disappear” the Maia pointed out, ready to get rid of the evidence of their guilty actions “Any ideas?” Maybe his Master had the power to vanish it with the astounding force of his iron will: it wouldn’t surprise him.

The Vala grinned, already savoring the expression of utter fascination and repugnance that would be carved on the Admirable’s face “We eat it” he declared simply, lowering himself on the bedding of grass and manhandling their meal in his lap, searching for the best point to start with their abhorring banquet. Letting his nails grow and sharpen like daggers, he looked up at Mairon and licked his lips as he found his speculations confirmed “It’s not different than eating an animal” he observed, pitching his voice lower so that the other would have to near him in order to hear his words.

Mairon’s pupils were mesmerized by the body. He imagined sitting at Aulë and Yavanna’s table, Maiar raw flesh overflowing from the silver plates instead of saccharine fruit and bird’s breasts dripping with creamy sauce; he could see Kementári dropping a piece of cheek in her mouth along with slices of peaches and refreshing grapes while her spouse relished in a stew of liver and lungs sautéed with liquor and golden onions “What about the bones and hair?” he stalled, desperately clinging at the pathetic excuse as he already crawled next to the Vala.

“After we’ve partaken in our spoils, you’ll burn the carcass” Melkor shrugged dismissively, as if the answer should have been obvious “I may keep a bone, though. I wish to carve it into a comb for you” he said, caressing the silky strands on fire with the back of his hand.

Mairon nodded absentmindedly, his mind still focused on the imaginary and unlikely lunch with the other Valar: what cut of meat would he pick, were he sitting at that nonexistent table? He mulled over his answers while he watched those elongated nails sink into the Maia’s breast and gut him neatly, the skin slightly wrinkling and rippling at the pressure of the cutting claws and blood blossoming out of the surgical incision, the white of bones peeking out amidst all that vivid red and brownish-pink. He collected the juice with a fingertip and stuck it in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the digit to lick it clean, ignoring Melkor’s pleased glance even as he felt tingling all over with joy.

The Vala parted the flesh and reached inside the torso to easily snap the ribcage, inquisitive fingers taking a hold of the still warm heart to offer it to his lover “The best morsel”

Hesitantly, Mairon cradled the organ in his wide palms and brought it to his face. The smell of blood was stronger and richer, definitively more mouthwatering than before: it chased his fear and aversion away, trapping them in an unheeded recess of his mind. Parting his lips, he sank his teeth in the muscle and rivulets of blood immediately flowed down his throat, quenching his thirst while he gnawed at the giving flesh. Embarrassment made his jaw work harder on the meat when he heard the hungry growling of his stomach and the slurping noises he was making, but a hasty glance at Melkor reassured him: the Vala seemed to be glowing with happiness at the sight of him eating with such relish and smiled at him while chewing on a couple of fingers. Hidden behind the veil of his crimson hair Mairon went on engorging himself with the tasty flesh, not even stopping to breathe the air his physical form needed to survive and making himself awfully dizzy.

Noticing that, Melkor elbowed him lightly and kissed his frowned forehead when he looked up with big and inquisitive eyes, offering him the half-devoured heart. He shook his head gratefully and licked the thick blood from his lips before talking “Nobody is going to disturb us: take your time” he encouraged, slicing away another strip of flesh from the Maia’s soft stomach, careful to avoid puncturing the bowels.

They feasted on the corpse in silence, often trading particularly delicious looking bites and kissing the taste from the other’s lips.

Still gnawing on the last piece of liver – he seemed to like organs better than flesh – Mairon poked at the unseeing eyeballs with interest, trying to figure out how to take them without damage.

“I wouldn’t eat them” Melkor advised, wrinkling his nose.

“Why not?” The Maia frowned: the chocolate-brown orbs looked good despite the broken capillaries spilling in the whites.

“They are kind of jelly inside and taste like tears: salty and strange”

Mairon perked up “Like brain?” He had discovered he liked brain very much, especially after it had warmed a bit and looked a bit gooey. Probably it would taste good also fried.

“Yeah… a bit” Fascinated, Melkor studied the other carefully extracting the orbs and plopped one in his mouth without much thought. He shuddered when he clearly heard the barely-muffled pop of the eye bursting on that tongue as the Maia’s teeth punctured it, messing with the natural pressure inside the organ “So…?” he curiously inquired.

“I like it, even if it’s a bit more watery than brain” He shrugged and ate also the other one before sprawling over the grass, a hand patting his uncomfortably full stomach and his eyes drooping shut while he hummed contentedly in the back of his throat, drowning the last of his conscience’s protests. Peace flooded him as the forest’s noises mixed in with his song, backing up the soothing and seductive timbre of his voice and giving life to a quiet lulling melody.

Melkor propped himself on an elbow and looked down at that gorgeous face, casting a shadow that disrupted Mairon’s song. Before the Maia could start complaining he bent down and ghosted a soft kiss on those lips, tracing the seam with the point of his tongue and dipping in only briefly, a teasing and slick caress against his gums “I love you” he sighed his confession; he had never told Mairon how much he cherished and adored him, despite having made love together multiple times. He had always been afraid of rejection: everybody shunned him only because he thought different, after all.

Soft simmering irises opened to regard him “I know, Mel” Despite everyone telling him he was wrong; despite the Vala’s frightening mind and bad habit of pushing him beyond his boundaries; despite the twist and sick feeling clenching his gut along with affection; despite the impending feeling of doom chocking him every time he tried to imagine an happy ending – he loved him with every stupid atom of his body and with his whole soul, leaving him unable to care for anyone but him “You didn’t need to tell me”

“I wanted to” Relief washed upon the Vala, easing the tension in his bones and melting his muscles. This time, he bestowed an openmouthed kiss on that tender smile, plastering himself all over that lithe body. With his sharp nails he made a quick work of their robes drenched in blood, knowing that the Maia wouldn’t throw a fit because they already were beyond salvation.

They writhed together, entwining their limbs into an impossibly tight embrace that barely left any room for movement but let them keep a satisfying friction between their groins, stoking the heat of their lust. None of them had the upper hand in that moment and both didn’t seek to gain it because having the other’s hardness slide against their own was enough – the closeness would always be more important than imposing dominance where it wasn’t needed.

Melkor buried his hands in Mairon’s hair and reveled in the feeling of the flames licking up his forearms: he was the only one, who couldn’t be hurt by the Maia’s fire – he truly was his Little Flame “Set yourself on fire”

Mairon let out a shrilly laugh “I already am” he mock-complained but granted his wish: in a matter of seconds, a blindingly yellowish-orange flame was molded around the Vala’s pale and strong body, cocooning him in almost unbearable heat “Are you happy now?”

“I’m always happy with you”

* * *

 

Completely sated, the two spirits lay embraced on the earth, exhausted limbs warmed by the Maia’s corpse on fire; only a scapula had been saved, Melkor hell bent on shaping it in a comb for his Little Flame’s crimson red hair that he loved so much.

They closed their eyes and snuggled closer to one another, slipping away in the recesses of their minds but still spiritually entangled: they would never be alone until they had each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Tips for improving my cannibalism? hahahah  
> Thank you all for reading <3


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